Top Shelf
by Wendish
Summary: A brief B&B timeline, hash-marked by Flyers games


_Created April 2014 - ____I don't own these characters or the words made famous by the TV show, Bones. Love them anyway. All the rest that follows is my feeble attempt to keep time in between broadcasts and Razztaztic, Threesquares, and Covalent Bond postings. While I own two S______oul Asylum albums, that's as far as ownership of anything goes there. And I own nothing of Mr. Mom but fond memories. Plus, ______I submit - with no feelings of failure - I don't know shit about hockey. _

A/N: 4/17/2014 – This ONE SHOT is a pick me up for fellow writer DG Schneider, who apparently had a crummy day yesterday. Here's a little fluff for you and her to get you through whichever day you choose to read this!

Please note, I totally am pulling a JJ Abrams, with his Super 8 homage to Spielberg, by TELLING YOU to go read one of my fav chaps of Covalent Bond's Catch in the Contradiction. My "2009" is a bow and an I'm-Not-Worthy to Catch's Chapter #3 - **Taking Risks**. Go read that!

* * *

**2006**

* * *

"Booth?"

"It's… Dr. Brennan."

"Hey Bones, what's up?" he smiled smugly. _Dr. Brennan! Who was she kidding?_

"Are you available to speak? I promise that I won't take more than four to six minutes of your time."

Booth visualized Brennan with her Nerd Girl wristwatch in her hand monitoring the length of the call. Oddly, or more accurately, **pruriently,** he was also visualizing her doing this as she leaned over the Angelator. Naked, save her lab coat.

He shook his head.

_Partner. Partner. Partner._

"Ha! Heh heh, Bones! Are you sure about that? Are you timing the call?"

Brennan hesitated. Booth snorted, knowing that she was frowning as she considered his question. Finally, she recovered.

"No I am not timing the call, but I did estimate the length of time this exchange would require."

"You're serious?" he asked distractedly, taking a sip of his beer.

"I suppose I am always more serious than frivolous, but 'serious' doesn't appropriately describe my current state of being. I would characterize my current demeanor as sober, relaxed."

_I can recall an almost really really fun time when 'sober' you were not, Sister._

"Really? Heh! What does _'relaxed Bones'_ look like exactly? Are you rotating lab coats? (_Dammit I can't get lab coats out of my head!) _No! You're rotating those crazy necklaces that you wear all the time…spring chunky into summer chunky, huh?"

"No Booth, I'm doing laundry. David is coming over to prepare a meal for me, and there's a costume that I have that Angela assures me will prove successful in luring him to my bed for s-"

"Uh, Bones. I don't need to hear about all that, okay? Just leave it at 'I'm doing laundry.'"

"Very well. So are you amenable to speak?"

_Sigh! Twenty minutes in she asks. This woman._

"Yeah, **_Temperance_**, I'm amenable. I'm available. It's what we're doing right now, no?"

"Yes, it is. I was just trying to be respectful of your time, Booth. I'm making an effort."

"OK, fine Bones. Yes! Please continue."

Brennan shifted as she reviewed their discussion up to that point. "I don't like the way you say 'Temperance', Booth. I detect sarcasm when you say my name."

**"That's because I was being sarcastic Bones!" **He snapped, trying to cover up alarmingly curious thoughts of life with a "Temperance Booth". "Sigh! Can we get whatever this is over with? I'm trying to watch the Flyers!" he whined.

"Watch them do what? I can't imagine fliers keeping your interest, Booth."

Booth stared at his phone before putting it back to his ears. "What are you talking about? I love the Flyers!"

"Perhaps I should seek to understand you better. Are you speaking of 'flyers" - in the example, pilots at an air show, or model airplane flyers? Or are you speaking of documents that one uses for marketing purposes?"

_She's a best selling author. **She's** a genius!_

"No Bones, none of the above! I'm watching the _Philadelphia Flyers!_ The professional hockey team? Hockey? Please tell me that you know what I'm talking about."

"Oh yes, of course! I worked for an orthopedic surgeon while I was at Northwestern one semester. She treated several hockey athletes with bone injuries. I have never observed the sport itself, but I've seen first hand what a violent sport it can be!" She exclaimed, recalling the severity of some of the breaks that she had the opportunity to see. "So, I'm not familiar with the Flyers hockey group."

_GROAN!_

"Well, remind me to explain them to you some time." he shifted uncomfortably. He liked explaining things to her _way too much._

Brennan frowned. "You don't want to tell me now?" Even though she found athletes to be like tedious children, obsessed with practicing their skills at war, she had found that she always enjoyed listening to Booth's explanations of things.

"Well, I don't want to compromise _your call duration plans_." He sneered.

Brennan's mouth twitched. She could visualize Booth raising a snarky eyebrow. But he was correct. "OK, that makes sense."

_Phew! Now that we've got **that** out of the way..._ "So, what's up Bones?"

"Right. I wanted to thank you again for helping to find Kirk's remains, Booth. It meant a lot to Angela to have that closure."

He sat up. "Oh, oh yeah! Of course Bones, sure. That's what partners do for each other." Even though he had definitely received a more than a few raised eyebrows from the folks in the bullpen regarding this favor for his partner, and he would have to clock a few thousand hours backing up a few shit cases for Director Cullen, how could he refuse? Especially **the _way_** she had requested his assistance. "When it comes to any territorial sheriffs giving you shit, Bones – you can always depend on me to get federal on their asses for you."

They both shared a laugh before Booth continued. "Hey, tell the truth?"

"I always tell the truth, Booth." She snickered to herself: **_truth Booth._**

"Did Angela teach you that phrase? _Get federal on his ass_?"

_God she was incredibly hot sometimes. And had no idea! He loved that moment - being surrounded by the sciency things in her office; probing through her treasures (nerd reports), and getting caught by her with a call. Thank God he had a case to cover his ass. She was so cute, he thought, as she listened to the froth rise in her voice because some Sante Fe yokel wasn't giving her her way. _

_That poor bastard, he never stood a chance!_

"Yes, but the mounting frustration was my own."

Booth considers how frustrated his partner looked in New Mexico. Hot, bothered, pouty…. '

_Partner. Partner. Partner!_

"Uh, how's Angela doing?"

"She is still very sad. She's considering the significance of her loss. She fears that Kirk was the love of her life and that she'll never have another opportunity to find again what she had with him."

"Yeah, you know, that must be hard. But she'll find a good guy eventually. Angela's great. She just needs time to mourn."

"Yes, that's what I told her. She will have a second chance…" her voice drifted.

"What?

"I was thinking, Booth. Perhaps you may have a romantic interest in her?"

Booth chokes on his beer. "What? Bones, no! Not Angela!"

"But she's _very attractive_ Booth. _And sexual_. I'm sure that the both of you would enjoy a rigorous sexual relationship. And, you …are a good guy! I'm sure that once enough time passes, the two of you…"

"No Bones. No way! There is just no way that I'm _ever_ dating Angela."

"What! Why? You just said that she was great."

"Yeah, she is, but there's no way that I'm ever going to want her more than…than I want to have you as a partner. We _all _work together. Stuff like that gets messy. You two are best friends. I wouldn't want to ruin a chance at…at, uh. I wouldn't want to ruin our partnership. And if things didn't work out between me and Angela, it would totally be weird for us, you and me. Don't you think?"

"Not really. I'm very compartmentalized, Booth. If Angela decided to spurn you for the affections of another, I would have no problem continuing to work-"

"Hey! Why am I the one getting spurned? What if I find someone better than Angela?"

"I doubt it. There are very few women better than Angela. She's very intelligent, creative, very physically appeal-…"

"Sigh! Look Bones, you said 'thanks' about the case – **_you're welcome_**. I really don't think you were calling to play yenta for me and Angela…are we done here?"

"'Yenta' or "yente' is a Yiddish term that means a female busybody or gossip. Often people mistake the term to mean matchmaker, because of the play 'Fiddler on the Roof', where the character named 'Yente' was-"

"I'm trying to watch the Flyers here, Bones! Was that all?"

"Oh no! I am sorry. There is one more thing…"

Booth rubbed his temples. "What?"

"I have misplaced a periwinkle colored tank top. I spoke with Angela already, and it was not among her things. I was wondering if it may have been stowed in your luggage."

"Periwinkle. That's purple right? Why can't girls just say _**purple**_! Uh, I took everything from my bag and tossed it into the hamper. I'll can check right now… "

"No! When you have the opportunity. There's no rush. I didn't realize it myself until I started my laundry this afternoon. You'll recall that this is the top has matching panties…."

_Oh Sweet Jesus. Stop talking, stop talking…._

"And because of your prudish ways, you accused me of being clad too scantily. Do you recall? You provided to me one of your tee-shirt tank tops to cover up?"

_GROAN. _

_Well at least she's not calling it a wife beater._

"….Which I still think was silly, given the fact that it only provided a few centimeters more coverage than the set itself…"

Booth squeezed his eyes shut. The image of her in that - _outfit_ - was burned in his eyes. Since they had returned, he tried so hard to erase the sight of his very nubile partner meandering around the cabin in just those little boy shorts and the obscene tank top. And her covering up with his tank had just made things even worse.

_She's _my _partner. Partner. Partner. Partner._

"Booth?"

"Yeah! I'm here!" he sighed. "I'll uh, check my laundry. If I have it, I'll drop it off to you on Monday, okay?"

"Of course! And, since I'm thinking about it, I should also replace your tee-shirt. I'm certain that I misshaped it. I'm happy to take the one that you lent me. It was surprisingly comfortable."

"Yeah, you looked comfortable… with all of your…girly curves…and stuff." Booth mumbled, hopeful that he wasn't loud enough for Brennan to hear.

_But she had._

Well, _you _were the one who refused to leave the cabin when we were dressing. I just assumed that you were becoming more comfortable with the human body!" she protested. Brennan bit her lip, troubled by her slight mania…_to retrieve his tank top. _

_I'm being silly_, she told herself. But she wanted that article of his clothing. "It's no trouble at all. Even if you don't have my top. I'll still replace yours."

"No Bones, it's not a problem – "

"No, it's done, Booth. I should go now. I'll speak to you on Monday. Have a nice weekend Booth."

Booth stared at the disconnected call.

_That was abrupt. _He thought to himself. He stood up, glancing at the TV, wincing at the score. He had missed a goal.

He headed to his bedroom, and to his hamper to check his laundry. Lifting the lid, he knew immediately that he had her tank top.

_Vanilla._ He sighed.

* * *

**2007**

* * *

"Booth."

"It's Bones."

"Hey Bones, what's up? You back already?"

"Yes. I just returned home a few moments ago. So, don't you want to bring me dinner?"

"So it's like that, huh? You just assume that I have no plans? That I've been waiting by the phone for you to call me?"

Excitedly, Brennan looked up at nothing in particular at a connection. "Soul Asylum!"

"Soul Asylum?" Booth scratched the back of his head. It wasn't that he was confused. It was that he was always seemingly _unprepared_ for what came out of his partner's mouth. He knew that she was studying his music collection. Apparently, she had moved into the nineties.

"Yes! 'I Want Somebody to Shove', by Soul Asylum! There are a few lines in the _song 'I've been waiting by the phone. Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone._' Of course_ I'm_ not calling to tell you that _you_ are not alone. I'm calling to tell you that I'm alone and I'd like you're company for a late supper, that you will carry here."

"You are a piece of work, Bones! Heh! How do you know that I don't have Parker? Or any other plans?" he challenged.

She continued to unpack. "I know your schedule quite well, Booth. You won't see Parker until next weekend. You work so much that you haven't found time to meet a prospective romantic partner, _and_ you don't have any athletic events to participate in until next Tuesday. And even if you did, you'd beg off because your Flyers are on tonight. You're next planned social outing is Sunday dinner at your friend Hank Lutrell's home. Oh, and Janie is expecting you to bring dessert, too."

"Wow!" he chuckled. "You are right. And I need to get out more."

"I told you that you could have come to West Virginia with me Booth. I got to see Andy and the Grants today."

"How is my man, Andy? Our big guy!" he bellowed in a "big daddy" voice.

Brennan's face knotted. Booth always suggested that Andy belonged to them. "He's doing quite well. The Grants have been managing his Rickets well. He's finally mobile, too. I have pictures."

"You can just say _walking_, Bones! I would have gone, but I thought Max was going with you? Thought ya'all were spending some Daddy/Daughter time together."

"We drove down to Tucker County together, and I showed him the bridge project that we were working on. As expected he was very impressed and filled with paternal pride. But he chose to remain in West Virginia. He has a few friends that he said that he wanted to look up."

"Ha! Maybe he's taking over Frank Kennedy's crew. Checking up on their earnings." He scoffed.

"Not funny, Booth!"

"Sorry! I know, it's not funny because it's possibly true!" he teased.

"Booth..." she whined.

"I know. OK, fine! Sorry! You're probably worried about it. But your Dad said, he's on the straight and narrow now…"

She grinned, shaking her head at her folly for actually enjoying his ribbing. "So will you bring me dinner or not?"

"On what planet do you think I would come and see you if the Flyers are on Bones? You're a high brow super snob, remember? No TV, remember? How would I watch the game?"

"I have a surprise for you. I've purchased a TV and a cable package that includes all professional hockey events."

Booth sat up. "What? Finally! Bones that's awesome!"

"Well, it's the least that I can do for my partner. You've been a very supportive partner, Booth. With Dad's trial, and how I've been feeling, you've been a very good friend. And I wanted to show my appreciation."

"Please tell me that you got the 103 inch screen…"

"You'll just have to bring me dinner and find out!" she teased.

"I'll see you in thirty minutes!"

* * *

Booth puttered around the house while he called Sid for an order. While listening to what Sid decided that they should have, he scratched his cheek, wondering if he should shave before heading over.

_It's not a date Numbnuts. It's Bones. _

So he decided just to add his razor to his overnight bag. In case the game went long.

"OK Seeley. Everything will be ready in 15 minutes to give you as much time as possible with your lady before the game starts." Sid advised.

"What? No, Bones is my partner, man. It's not like that." He brushed his lips, hopeful that there was lip balm in the car.

"She calls you last minute on a Saturday night. Says 'come over, I'll put the game on the TV that I just bought you', and you think there's nothing going on? OK, Mr. Federal Mystery Solver."

Booth laughed off Sid's teasing as he locked up. "I'll see you in 15 minutes, Buddy." He chuckled to himself whistling a Soul Asylum song down his hallway.

Full overnight bag in tow, _in case the game went long._

* * *

**2009**

* * *

"Brennan?"

"Bones, you promised that you'd stay with me **_all night_**. Why am I alone right now?"

"Sorry, Booth. I needed to complete the reports for the Pete Carlson case and get them Agent Perotta this morning. Besides, I didn't leave until I heard you turn off the shower, Booth."

Brennan smirked, her vivid imagination constructing her own version of how her well-formed partner looked in the shower. So many times, had she attempted to vision Booth through the lens of Agent Andy, but she really needed more evidence to truly capture his character. Apparently her thoughts had lingered, because Booth still was speaking and she had no idea of what he was speaking. "What?"

"Pay attention to your charge please! I said, _bring your laptop over_. I've got high speed now! Bring some breakfast too. And don't forget, you have to take me to the doctor at 11:30 AM anyway."

Brennan rolled her eyes, laughing at her incorrigible patient. "Fine. I'll come back."

"You should just plan to spend the whole day with me Bones! If I get the all clear from the noggin doc, I can sleep again! But you know me, I'll be so overtired that I won't be able to." He put his phone on dresser as he put on a tee-shirt. "And you'll be tired too, Bones! You've been up with me this whole time! We can nap together. Cuddle each other to sleep." He snickered.

Brennan caught her jaw before she let herself lick her lips. "Booth, partners don't cuddle." She scolded.

"I know Bones, but when we were in the circus, I just got used to sharing a bed with you. You're like my woobie!"

"I don't know what that means. Is that from Star Wars?"

"No Bones! 'Woobie'. Wo –BEE! Come on, pahleeeease tell me that Little Tempe Brennan has seen Mr. Mom!"

"Oh yes! The man who played Batman when he was portraying a stay-at-home-father! Yes, that was a funny film. 'Schooner Tuna – the tuna with a heart!'" she cackled.

Booth did some quick math, figuring that Brennan was probably seven or eight years old when the movie came out…still happy.

"Yeah, well the kid called his security blanket his 'woobie'." Booth explained.

Brennan processed Booth's inference. "Do you think of me as a security blanket?"

"Well, you're my partner! We protect each other. We're each other's woobie."

Brennan hesitated. "As I recall, the woobie needed to be discarded for the child's growth."

"I'm fully grown Bones. I'm not discarding you. You're stuck with me."

Brennan nodded her head in agreement, specifically at how well he had grown, indeed. "Well, then you're stuck with me too. I am fully grown as well!"

"Yeah you are!" Booth cheered. "Fucking A" he confirmed.

"Excuse me?"

_Redirect. Redirect. Redirect. _

"Everything bagel with lox and everything. Toasted! Yum!."

Brennan was certain that a food order wasn't what Booth had said earlier, but she was too amused that he had finally succumbed to her breakfast recommendation.

"Very well, I'll see you soon, Booth."

"And a cheese Danish too! Bones, didya hear me about the danish? Bones?"

* * *

_LATER THAT AFTERNOON_

* * *

"No prescription medication, Booth. Just Motrin. Do you have a headache?" Brennan inquired as she closed and locked Booth's door behind them.

"Nah, I just wanted to make sure that I don't have to take any loopy pills. I'm kinda sensitive to prescription medications." He removed his pullover jacket. Brennan waited, leaning against the front door, watching his actions draw his tee-shirt up to expose his rectus abdominis.

Booth hung up the pullover before he noticed Brennan hadn't moved from her spot. For no reason whatsoever, she seemed preoccupied with a spot on the floor. He tugged at the strap of her satchel, which she held in front of her with both hands. Flushed, she looked up into the Seeley Booth charm smile.

"C'mon, Bones! Let's go to bed" he ordered cheerfully. "Did you bring your sweats?"

Brennan tried to control her tell-tale twitch of the mouth.

Dr. Sweets had pointed out to the both of them that Brennan's mouth seemed to twitch when she was trying to mute either an emotional outburst or excitement. But Booth's sentence was too much. She couldn't hold back an innocent giggle as Booth lead her by the hand to his bedroom.

_She loved it when they had adventures. _

"Um, no I just bought some work. I forgot to pack them." She lied. "May I borrow something?" she requested.

"Uh huh, sure!" Booth said, not bothering to look back. He wanted to get her to bed…to sleep.

"Woohoo! Sleep! Goooood!" he growled, triggering another set of Brennan giggles.

Entering his bedroom, Booth released Brennan as he dove headfirst for his bed. Brennan chuckled as her sleep-deprived partner moaned contentedly into his pillow. She placed her bag on the recliner chair as she approached his dresser. "Um, where do you keep your tees and shorts?"

Booth popped his head to regard Brennan. He beamed at the sight of her. He still felt a little lightheaded from the concussion, or maybe something else.

_She's so pretty. _He gushed to himself as he kicked off his shoes. Feeling very playful that Bones had agreed to his sleepover, he slid his socked feet over to her by the dresser, braking by grabbing her around the hips.

"Booth!" she squealed, laughing and swatting at his tickling phalanges. "If you lose control, you may hurt your back."

Booth let his hand linger on Brennan's left hip, pulling her back into him as he created space to open the drawer. "I won't lose control, Bones. You won't let me, remember?" He whispered next to her ear. She didn't respond, but Booth couldn't help but enjoy the coy smile that he caught on her in the mirror. _She smelled amazing._

"Uh, why don't you go change in the bathroom? I'll get your water." He suggested.

Brennan raised her eyebrows, surprised and pleased that Booth was considerate enough to remember that she kept two bottles of water by her bed – one to drink before she slept, and one to sip incidentally if she woke up. But it had only been a few weeks since Buck and Wanda returned from their week in the "wild".

"Okay." Brennan excused herself to change and Booth retrieved the water.

Booth re-entered the bedroom, noting that Brennan was still futzing around in the bathroom. But he knew that she must have come out at some point because he noted that her jeans, sweater and (_Lord help him_) brassiere was draped over the recliner, and the bathroom door was now open.

He peeked into on her in his bathroom. Sure enough, Brennan being the ever curious anthropologist was taking inventory, examining Booth's toiletries, medicine cabinet and the album collection in the corner.

He laughed at himself. If it was any other female, he would have been outraged by the snooping. But he liked that Brennan was continuously interested in knowing more about him. The thought of her pressed against him, grilling him with incessant, inane questions about her Booth Bathroom Findings pleased him to no end. He stretched out on his side of the bed, wagering with himself on what she we would ask about first.

By the time Brennan came out of the bathroom, Booth was fast asleep.

* * *

"Booth?"

"Mmmmhmmm?"

"Booth?"

"What Bones? Mmmmmmm…."

"It's six thirty, Booth. Do you want to get up? The Flyers will be on at seven thirty."

Booth hummed softly at the feel of Brennan's breath on his neck.

"That tickles." He mumbled as he hugged her body into his. "Do it again."

Irrationally, Brennan shifted to let her body meld into his. She braced her hands on his cotton-clad chest at the feel of his warm hands slipping under her shirt. He began to stroke her sides, first in relatively platonic locales, but extending his risk with each featherweight caress.

"Booth?" she inquired. "Are you awake?"

"Mmmmmm. You smell so good Bones._ **Vanilla.**_" he sniffed into her hair. He continued an inhale-exhale-kiss-inhale pattern into her hair and onto her neck. "Feel good too."

Brennan was still not convinced that Booth was awake, but for the moment, she enjoyed the crime of stealing pleasure from the feel of his body scandalously entangled with her own.

His mouth was at her jaw, tongue sampling the soft skin from her under ear to her chin. "Taste good. So good." He breathed against her. She felt as disoriented as she assumed he was.

And she liked it.

From her chin, his nosed grazed up, intersecting her lips as it searched out her nose. He knew from their so few kisses, she preferred to be nuzzled from the left. Impressed by his own knowledge of her topography, his lips landed on hers gloriously; other parts lined up with equal success.

Moaning into his mouth, she remembered the last time that his was on hers – it had been way too long ago, and with one too many people in the room. This time, he would be hers and hers alone. And even she would forego counting.

She urgently pressed his head to hers with one motion and then cursed herself with her next, as she tugged for the banishment of his shirt. Her shame was not in the manipulation, but in the distance that the discard had caused. But, inexplicably she chose to repeat her action, tearing at her own shirt, needing to give Booth full jurisdiction of her torso. Her logic – lose the Battle of Kisses to win the War of Booth.

Booth's body was taut from his head to his toes. This was the most incredible dream that he had ever had - _finally, Bones had set him free. _Booth haphazardly pulled and tore at anything that obstructed his access to Brennan.

And she was an eager accomplice. She willfully abetted Booth's chaos by employing her dexterous feet to help him shove down his sweatpants and boxers. Her achievement was twofold – together, they had eliminated their constraints, and the perch of her feet on his hips made for a fortuitous angle to tortuously tempt their naked, aligned and naked bodies.

It was dark enough in the room that he couldn't see her, but he could feel her head nodding with permission, her breath patterned in an anticipatory pant.

_Oh God. She's letting me have her._

_ This is most incredible dream in the world._

_ Don't ever wake me. _

She grunted in frustration at his pause. Her body twisted and arched under his, desperately in search of the fullest cling she could achieve. His body was so hot, and so was hers. In their middle of their fray, he snatched back the sheets off the bed, both of them soothed by the snap of the room's comparatively cooler temperature.

Their canvas was now less constricted. Yet even though they had more space to make art, the only space that they sought to occupy was each other's. Tenderly, she mewled his name as he tested her readiness. She curled impossibly closer into him and then on top of him. She had waited long enough.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Arrrrgh!" Booth roared at the sound of his betraying alarm clock ejecting him from complete bliss. From his back, his right arm flailed wildly as it searched fruitlessly to disarm the menace.

_It must be stopped. I want to go back. I need more time!_

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Ugh!" He grunted, furiously reaching, still with no success.

Suddenly, he became cognizant of a lovely form sliding across his body. Instantly, he stilled, welcoming the feel of the soft and firm body coming to his aid. And with one inhalation, all anxiety was quashed.

_Bones. _

Brennan paused, a moment, her soft, unsupported breasts resting on top of Booth's chest to pull her hair behind her ears. Helplessly, Booth moaned at the feel of her restarting the sweep of her cottony bosom across his chest. In the quasi-darkness, he watched his Squint squint, as she assessed the quickest way to destroy their enemy.

With the knowledge she needed, she struck down the fucking alarm clock.

"Oh thank God, Bones!" Booth panted, placing his hands on her borrowed tee. Unconsciously, he stroked her back, his fingers occasionally tickling the back of her right arm.

She continued to lean, head in left hand propped up perpendicular to his bare chest, watching him. "I am sorry. I set the alarm for seven o'clock. I didn't want you to miss the Flyers game. I was thinking that we could have dinner together and then I could leave you to enjoy your game."

"Thanks Bones, but you don't have to go." He said softly. She shifted, unaware that Booth shared the agony she was experiencing.

"Well, I still have work to complete on the Carlson case. Now that you've have some rest, I'm sure it's safe to leave you to your own devices." She offered weakly.

_But I'd rather you leave me with your devices, Bones. _Booth hoped there was enough darkness in the room to mask the hunger for her that he was certain burned in his eyes.

_God Bones, tell me you want to stay, so that we can reenact my dream. _

Brennan knew she was on the edge. She knew that her face was flush as she savored the memory of the incredibly vivid dream that that fucking alarm had ripped her from.

She didn't yet want to abandon this closeness, but she knew that she needed **_some _**distance. She sighed, reaching for a pillow to place on Booth's chest, ostensibly to prevent her olecranon from poking into her partner, but mostly for the distance it afforded her.

With Brennan's movement, the hand that Booth had on her back, slipped down her torso, landing on her bare hip.

He wondered.

As Brennan turned to place the pillow on Booth's chest, she wondered.

Their eyes locked in the semi darkness with alarm. Simultaneously, they asked each other:

Booth: "didn't I give you boxers?"  
Brennan: "weren't you wearing a shirt?"

* * *

** 2010**

* * *

"Brennan."

"Hey Bones, it's me!"

"Hello."

"Are you still at the lab?"

"Yes. The way you say it infers that it's late. What time is it?"

"It's almost 10:30. Bones, you promised me!"

"Yes, Booth I know I did, but as you know, Miss Wick assisted on this case. You know that I prefer the solitude of the lab in the evenings to help me unwind."

"Yeah, but, Bones..."

"Is that Dr. Bones?" Parker inquired.

"Where are you?" Brennan asked, her voice unconsciously lifting to mimic the raised volume she discerned on the line.

"You forgot didn't you? You bought you, me and Parker tickets to see the Caps play the Flyers tonight, remember? We're about to hop on the Yellow to head home."

"Oh. Oh yes. Was….Hannah able to go in my stead?"

"Yeah, she's right here. Hold on, she wants to say 'hi'."

"Temperance? Hey! The seats were incredible! Such an amazing game! I haven't been to a hockey game since I was in high school. Thank you so much for the tickets!"

"Hello Hannah! I'm glad that you were able to enjoy the game. Hockey's very important to Booth."

"Yeah, no kidding! As payback, Seeley and I are going to make you a nice meal" she chuckled. "Just as soon as one of us finds time to stock the apartment with something more than beer, wine and Parker food. Heh!"

"Don't be silly Hannah! You should both should come to mine. My apartment is always well-stocked. I use a grocery delivery service. I'll host a dinner party. In your honor. I'll invite everyone."

"That sounds like fun! I'll call you tomo-…uh oh! Agent Bossypants is giving me the two minute warning signal. The train's coming. it's pretty crowded of course, so I guess Seeley has a strategy. I'll talk to you tomorrow Temperance, thanks again!"

"Goodbye Hann-"

"Bones? Listen. Thanks again. The Flyers won tonight, so the Booth boys are very happy, and it's all your doing!"

"I'm glad it was a successful evening Booth. I'll speak w-"

"C'mon, scoot up guys! Let's go! Look Bones. I'll-talk-to-you-tomorrow.-Love-ya!"

***CALL DISCONNECTED***

* * *

**2011**

* * *

"Bones!"

"I'm in the bedroom Booth."

"What smells so good?"

"I don't know. What are the characteristics of what you are you smelling?"

"I smell food, Bones. Did you buy…barbecue?"

"Yes!" she replies guiltily. "I've been craving pulled pork all day. I purchased it, plus corn on the cob, collard greens and cheddar biscuits."

Booth faked a jaw drop._ I LOVE this baby!_

Booth sang to himself as he surveyed the food in the kitchen. He then popped his head in the fridge for a beer. "Hey, sorry I'm late. Hacker continues to come up with as many little shit assignments he needs me to do before he transfers."

"Well, you did best him in your pursuit of me, and then again when you challenged his inconsistent enforcements of Bureau policies, Booth. It's really not a transfer, so much as it is a demotion."

"No way that that bozo deserved the chance to touch you." He grumbled to himself taking a swig of the beer. "The Flyers are on in about ten minutes Bones, do you mind waiting to eat until the end of first period?"

"No not at all." She replied distractedly.

He strolled back to the bedroom, eyes reconnoitering every room that he passed.

When he came upon Brennan in the bedroom, she hit him.

The first time that she hit him, she accused him of being a bully. But with this strike, he was nothing but jelly.

He was dumbstruck. In front of the full length mirror, there she stood, her naked body draped by a long, pale blue silk robe. Completely devoid of immodesty, she was rubbing cocoa butter on her swollen belly.

Booth leaned against the door frame as he watched the mother of their lovechild tended to their creation. Over the past four months, he marveled daily at the beautiful curves that their baby had formed on his Bones. In front of the mirror, with her figure kissed with the glisten of a recent shower and the sheen of the cocoa butter, the only thing that Booth could process was that his goddess needed worshiping.

Her blossoming belly, the softness of her thighs, the round of her hips, the full of her breasts and the blush in her cheeks…she was perfect.

Brennan hadn't noticed that her partner had entered the room until the corner of her eye caught a goofy-faced Booth blindly repeating a luckless search for the dresser on which to abandon his beer. Watching him from the mirror, she smiled shyly at his loving gaze.

"What?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

"Fuck the Flyers." He announced, charging toward his future.

* * *

A/N2 – If you're ever in DC, please stop by a family run espresso place called Lot 38. They make the best everything bagel with lox and everything (capers, red onions, tomatoes and cream cheese). Or you can get a decent equivalent in the NJ/NY region, but YUM Lot 38!

A/N3 - Hope this stays with you a while! I really appreciate how there's a coterie of wonderful authors who self-regulate our bad behaviors. I've been so in writer mode, that I've been a bad fan of yours. So, I'm going to devote the next few days reading a bunch of stuff I've missed, reviewing, and catching up with the feedback that some of you have shared for other stories.

My launch of Conspiracy Theory has hit a snag, because I can't decide which of my two crazy-a** theories to pursue (or should I do both, a la Scandal?). This weekend, I have a grip of research to do (read as: rewatching Bones seasons 7 & 8) before Monday's ep completely blows my premise out the water


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